Love, poker, jokers and pies in the sky

There can be only one winner in an election, although you could say the people of NSW were winners too, because you have to admit it was exciting.

The other states, with only a war to be concerned about, must surely have envied us the cut and thrust, the human drama, the pure entertainment.

There was true romance. The Australian Women's Weekly revealed how Bob and Helena Carr met in exotic Tahiti. There she was, lounging by the pool, reading the economist John Kenneth Galbraith. Irresistibly drawn to a woman who could cite Galbraith, he wooed and won her. It was love at first cite.

While Helena Carr was standing by her man on TV campaign ads, Lucy Brogden was standing on a soapbox, joining her husband on the hustings. And not to be outdone in the marital revelations stakes, the Brogdens told of their inability to have children and their desire to adopt. It was heart-warming stuff.

There was high drama, notably the game of election promises blackjack between the poker-faced Premier and the handsome stranger.

"A minimum of 20 years for shoplifting,"drawled one.

"I'll see your 20 years and raise you capital punishment for jaywalking," sneered the other, upping the ante.

"I'll see that and raise you one teacher for every schoolchild."

"I'll cover that and raise you one doctor for every patient and a pair of police on every corner. Cop that!"

It was bluff at its best. Both had a hand of jokers.

There was high farce when the Premier said sausage rolls were "disgusting, they are fat encased

in fat", prompting the Opposition Leader to accuse him of being "out of touch with the millions of people who enjoy sausage rolls".

Returning fire, the Premier scoffed a meat pie with tomato sauce, declaring: "Faced with a choice between a pie and a sausage roll, it's the pie that wins every day. It's the more Australian choice." Move over, Gettysburg Address.

For the voting public, there were interactive games. The "Who is this man?" game involved showing people in the street a photo of Mr Brogden.

Then there was the "Where is this man?" game. Amid flak over the Waterfall rail tragedy and a finding that one in every five trains runs late, Transport Minister Carl Scully was nowhere to be found.

Pauline Hanson, recently moved from Queensland to Sylvania Waters to run for the NSW upper house, was no help.

At a press conference she admitted she had no idea who Mr Scully was (and Police Commissioner Ken Moroney, too). No one thought to ask her if she had heard of Noeline Donaher.

There were happy surprises. For Mr Brogden, Prime Minister John Howard happened to be passing by and popped in to say hello. And at Top Ryde he bumped into Pauline "Fancy meeting you here!" Hanson. It seems that with Ryde just a handy hour's drive from her home, she finds it a convenient place to shop.

On Labor's campaign trail, Mr Carr managed to avoid crossing Mr Brogden's path, and, flanked by more minders than Frank Sinatra ever had, not too many voters got a close look at him either.

Now that it's all over bar the broken promises, we can be thankful there's an election only every four years. With all the excitement, it takes that long to get over it.